


Be Mine

by songofthe52hertzwhale



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17790683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthe52hertzwhale/pseuds/songofthe52hertzwhale
Summary: Valentine's Day, five ways





	Be Mine

**One**.

Logan’s face is twisted in what almost looks like a glare, when Julian hands him the box of chocolates.

“No peanuts,” Julian promises, “I double- and triple-checked. Even called the factory. It’s all one-hundred percent safe.”

“Is this _really_ how pathetic I am?” Logan asks, staring at the heart-shaped box in his hands, “That the only Valentine I get is from you?”

Julian tries not to let that hurt, “If you don’t want it, I’m sure Derek’ll eat them.”

“Oh I’ll _eat_ them. Just wish someone would give me a card or something for reasons other than _pity_.”

Oh.

“It’s not pity,” Julian says, softly, “I just…thought you’d like it.”

He feels so overwhelmingly _stupid_ , now, standing before Logan, staring at that stupid box of chocolates. He shrugs, offers Logan a tight smile and turns to walk away.

“Hang on,” Logan calls out after him, “I might have gotten something for you, too.”

Logan reaches into his bag, fumbles around with the contents before pulling out a small card. It’s one of those generic grocery-store Valentines, one of the mass-produced ones that come in a box of a dozen or more. There’s a bright red, heart-shaped lollipop taped to the back.

Julian takes it with a slight grimace. He rips off the lollipop, sliding it out of the plastic and into his mouth.

“Thanks,” he says, a little dryly, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Logan.”

He won’t admit that it hurts, a little. That he’d spent _hours_ searching for gourmet chocolates made in a nut-free facility, that Logan’s gift had been special-ordered weeks ago, and he’d just given Julian a card from _Walmart_.

When he gets back to his room, he tosses the Valentine in his wastebasket, flops on his bed and groans around the cherry-flavored candy in his mouth.

The card falls through a pile of wadded-up tissues and paper scraps, the cartoon hedgehog on the front landing face-down.

 

**Two**.

Julian knew this would happen.

He’d asked Logan not to do anything crazy, told him a dozen times he didn’t want to celebrate. Still, he’d awoken to the smell of chocolate and caramel, opened his eyes to find a steaming pink mug in front of him, the tower of whipped cream covered in heart-shaped sprinkles. Logan smiles at him, kisses his cheek and tells him to _hurry up, we’ll be late for class_.

Julian sighs at the sight of the bouquet on his nightstand.

He curses the day he fell in love with a hopeless romantic.

The gifts don’t stop there. There’s a single white lily on his desk before every class. A bag of cherry lollipops slipped into his backpack, tied up with a red bow. He finds a shiny new watch resting on his pillow at lunchtime, a ridiculous Cheshire Cat coffee mug in his car.

It’s not that he doesn’t _appreciate_ it, of course. It’s just that Valentine’s Day sets him on edge, the memories from this time last year swirling in his head every time he sees a rose held in the hands of some love-struck boy in the hallway.

He’s a little scared to see what Logan plans for dinner.

When the knock on his door sounds, he takes a deep breath before answering. He expects to find Logan all dolled up in a suit, another bunch of flowers in his arms. 

Instead, he finds Logan in _pajamas_. There is something in his arms, though — a plastic bag from Julian’s favorite restaurant. 

“Hey,” he says, a soft smile on his lips, “You hungry?”

“You want to eat here?”

“Figured you’d prefer that. Most restaurants are all decorated up today, you know.”

“I just thought — ”

“I’d do something extravagant?”

“Yeah,” Julian admits, “Kind of.”

“You don’t want that, though,” Logan says matter-of-factly, “I hope I made today suck a little bit less, though.”

He kisses Julian’s cheek, side-steps him and starts unloading take-out containers onto the desk.

“Yeah,” Julian breathes, “You made it pretty great.”

 

 

 **Three**.

Logan’s _exhausted_. 

He’d taken way too many course hours this semester, had ignored all the warnings and signed up for what’s proving to be the workload from _hell_. He’s finally finished his readings for Professor Cartwright’s class, has turned in his first draft of his paper for Dr. Siegel. He checks the clock.

9:56

Four minutes.

He pulls on a different shirt — something nice, with buttons — and smoothes his hair, moves his laptop to a better-lit portion of the room and waits.

Julian calls right on time.

He looks just as tired as Logan feels. The circles under his eyes are dark and puffy, and he’s leaning heavily on the palm of one hand. Still, he smiles when the call connects.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says softly, “I liked the flowers.”

“How about the ones you sent _me_ ,” Logan angles his computer, showing off the absolutely obscene bouquet of buttercups and daffodils behind him, “These must weigh a _ton_.”

“You said nobody’s ever given you flowers before,” Julian explains, “I wanted to make up for two decades of neglect.”

“Well you did. I love them.”

“I love _you_.”

Even after all this time, the words still hit Logan hard. Julian always sounds so _open_ , when he says it, so honest and vulnerable that it almost hurts. Logan takes a breath, steadies himself before he says it back.

“So how much time do we have?” Julian asks, his eyes soft, “You look exhausted.”

“So do you.”

“I have a later start tomorrow. Nine instead of seven.”

“I have class at eight. And I need to swing by the library beforehand, pick up a few books for this research paper.”

“So not long, then?”

“I could technically stay up another two hours and still get a good night’s sleep,” Logan says, “If you think you can stay up.”

“I can for you.”

Logan smiles, his exhaustion waning a little, “I wish I could be there.”

“Me too. Maybe next year, though?”

“Yeah. Maybe next year.”

 

 

**Four**.

Julian is _infuriating_.

Logan’s been trying to plant a craving for Italian food in his fiancé’s head _all week_ , so that the reservations he’s made at _Felix Trattoria_. But Julian’s been an absolute pain in the ass, keeps talking about how much he’s been craving a _steak_ , instead.

It has the rather annoying side effect of making _Logan_ crave steak.

Besides that, Julian’s been _insistent_ that he can’t alter his work schedule. That he has no idea what time he’ll be done on Valentine’s Day, that they should just _eat in_ instead. 

Logan’s going to lose it.

His cell phone rings, suddenly, and he’s momentarily interrupted from his internal venting. He picks it up, snaps out a greeting that comes out a little harsher than necessary.

“Mr. Larson?” The voice on the other end says, and Logan blinks. This isn’t his phone, “Hi, Mr. Larson, this is Katrina from The Palm. We just wanted to confirm your Valentine’s catering order.”

“My what?”

“The steak dinner?” The woman continues, “For Valentine’s Day? Seven-thirty at your address, correct? We’ve checked the weather, it should be perfect for an outdoor dinner.”

“Oh,” Logan says, blinking, “Yes. Right. Perfect.”

“Great. We’ll see you then, Mr. Larson.”

Logan stares at the phone — Julian’s phone — in his hand. 

So Julian _hadn’t_ just been difficult, these last few days. He’d been trying to manipulate _Logan_ , the way Logan had tried with him. Had worked to plant a craving for steak in Logan’s mind, to warm him up to the idea of a romantic outdoor dinner, no doubt on the poolside patio they’d just renovated.

It sounds perfect.

He can hear the squeak of their shower, the tell-tale signs of Julian stepping out. Logan grabs his phone — the correct one, this time — and slips out of the room.

By the time Julian comes downstairs, Logan’s made the calls necessary to alter his own Valentine’s plans. The dinner’s been canceled, the floral delivery re-arranged. 

He smiles when Julian leans up to kiss his cheek, hands him the mug of coffee he’d just made.

He’ll make sure he gets to plan next year.

 

**Five**.

Julian laughs, when Logan swirls a pale green heart on the wall beside him.

“Happy Valentine’s, baby,” he says, pressing a messy kiss to Julian’s cheek, “Sorry we’re not exactly piling on the romance this year.”

“We’re painting a _nursery_ ,” Julian tells him, “For a baby we’re going to _raise_ together. How is this not romantic?”

“You’re wearing overalls.”

“They’re _designer_.”

“They’re _overalls_.”

Julian glares, and Logan’s not quite quick enough to dodge the paintbrush aimed right at his nose. It smears across his skin, slipping across his cheek. Logan pulls a face.

“What if this is toxic?”

“We _checked_ ,” Julian reminds him, “No lead, no weird chemicals. Totally baby-safe.”

“God,” Logan sets his paintbrush down, stares at the freshly-colored wall, “I still can’t believe there’s going to be a _baby_ in here, soon.”

“Our baby,” Julian drops his own brush, stepping up behind Logan. He pushes up to his toes, rests his chin on Logan’s shoulder and winds his arms around Logan’s waist.

“Our baby,” Logan repeats, “I’m going to be a _dad_.”

“A great one,” Julian says softly, “The absolute best.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re already the best husband.”

“I’m alright, I guess. Kinda dropped the ball on Valentine’s Day. Got a little distracted trying to sort through all those baby clothes you ordered.”

“They were just so _cute_ ,” Julian gushes, “Besides, I bet you can make it up to me.”

“Oh? You have an idea?”

“We’re gonna have a baby here soon,” Julian says, the fingers of one hand slipping underneath Logan’s waistband, “It’s gonna be real hard to find time for…adult activities.”

Logan smirks, “Meet you in the bedroom in five?”

“I’ll race you.”

Julian starts to pull away, but Logan pulls him back, presses their lips together in a soft, sweet kiss.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jules."


End file.
